


Soulmarks and Starlight

by tolkienguardians



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Modern Middle Earth, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 20:57:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4720202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tolkienguardians/pseuds/tolkienguardians
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uncommon soulmark issues seem to run in Kili's family, but even with that in mind, he can't shake the feeling that his soulmark- and soulmate- are drastically different than what is commonly expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The soulmark system stunk.

Sure, it worked for some people okay. People with rather prominent markings on places they were okay with exposing could wear their marks proudly, hoping that somebody would recognize it as theirs or a friend’s and they would live happily ever after. Sometimes people would reveal it to a close friend they’d had for years and realize they were actually soulmates. Those were nice, but they weren’t as common as could be expected.

Kili’s uncle had an enormous soulmark covering most of his chest and branching onto his arms, and he wasn’t comfortable walking around shirtless to find a soulmate. Actually, Kili wasn’t so sure if Thorin cared that much. Thorin seemed to figure that his soulmate would come when the time was right, just as his soulmark had appeared, quietly fading into existence as he healed from the loss of his father, grandfather, and brother.

Kili’s mother had told the story of how she nearly got hers surgically removed before she met their father. It seemed pointless to keep hoping for something so rare and improbable to happen, she would say. But the rare and improbable did happen, and she ended up keeping it for the significance of the bond it represented at the time. She kept it just to remember him now, though Kili knew how much pain it brought her every time she looked at it. It had lost color slowly over the years, but never fully disappeared.

Kili’s brother didn’t have one at all. He’d never admit it, but Kili knew Fili had been crushed when he realized he’d probably never get one. He had sobbed over it, asking Mahal if he was broken, if he’d never be loved, if he never could love. Fili understood himself better now, though, and had figured out his identity with the help of several friendly asexual and aromantic dwarves. He decided that his soulmark- or his lack of one- was for his platonic soulmate, and maybe he had more than one. He’d assemble an army, he joked, an army of platonic soulmates with invisible soulmarks.

Soulmarks were commonly quite visible against one’s skin. Dwarves were known for having simple, bold soulmarks, and many were thrilled with the appearance of their marks and showed them proudly. It’s a gift from Mahal, they’d say, I won’t hide my gift. Fili had an endless supply of jokes about that. Kili, however, couldn’t laugh. Every day he saw the strikingly straightforward marks- on shoulders, on arms, on legs, on ankles, on wrists, on stomachs- and wondered why he was different.

Kili’s soulmark was enormous and colorful, placed squarely between his shoulder blades, particularly hard to see if you weren’t looking for it. When he’d finally seen it, he’d wondered if he’d accidentally gotten an immense back wound and somehow hadn’t noticed, but the skin was smooth. The soulmark resembled a healing scab, with patches of brown and red, except it was perfectly circular. Smaller, pale marks surrounded the circle. Kili had nicknamed them stars, but he didn’t understand why he had them. Dwarves believed that stars were cold, distant, and unforgiving- so what would that say about his soulmate?

The strangest thing of all, though, was that his soulmark had words. Not just any words, either- words written in their sacred language, words from a lullaby his mother used to sing quietly when he was young and words from a runestone she’d carved for him to carry wherever he went. _Inikh dê_ \- return to me. Why that, of all things, was on his soulmark, he hadn’t figured out yet.

He hadn’t told anyone in his family about his strange soulmark. Only Balin, a close family friend, knew. Kili had come to him to ask what the words on his back were, since he couldn’t see them very well. Balin had promised he wouldn’t say a thing, but Kili knew he was studying him, wondering what was different about his soulmate. Kili hated it. Balin was often with them, as he was Thorin’s legal advisor in the court war to reclaim a dwarven homeland from a loan shark. Kili tried to avoid him as often as he could, but it was as though he was always around, especially since the court case had escalated.

Thorin often called family and close friends together to discuss the homeland, since they were all part of the inheritance of the land. Lately, Thorin had been conferring with Gandalf Greyhame, an older gentleman who liked to call himself a wizard. Thorin had been hesitating to take direct action, but Gandalf urged him on, even convincing Kili’s English professor- a hobbit- to be a burglar for them. Gandalf had insisted that his small size and soft disposition would be beneficial as a burglar, as well as years of lock-picking experience from who knew what. He would also be more exempt from suspicion, since he wasn’t a dwarf. Apparently a burglar was necessary for the reclaiming of Erebor. The English professor wasn’t so keen on the idea, though.

“We’re going _where now_??” Mr Boggins sputtered.

“Relax, Bilbo, we haven’t even left the house.” Bofur sat on the counter swinging his legs and drinking from a juice box.

“ _Relax_?? You’re suggesting we _trespass_ onto _private property_ several times and deal with gangs wherever we go just so we can get to an even bigger private property so I can go steal some deed-”

“Use the codename!” Bofur grinned at Bilbo’s obvious annoyance.

“...’the Arkenstone’,” Bilbo continued, making air quotes with his fingers, “from a loan shark whose reputation is- it’s- he’s infamous! I’m not even a proper burglar! This wouldn’t hold up in any court of actual law!”

“No matter, Master Baggins. Once your job is done, you will no longer have to concern yourself with what happens to us and to Erebor,” Thorin assured him, deep voice growling like a vaguely threatening wolf.

“All of us here are competent enough to do what we need to do,” Fili chimed in. “We’re ready! We can do this!”

“And Gandalf is the best lawyer ever. He’s probably taken on loads of loan sharks, haven’t you, Gandalf?”

Gandalf coughed awkwardly and avoided Kili’s gaze. Dori, Gloin, and Bifur evidently found that disheartening and took to muttering and signing in distress in the corner.

Kili sighed. Maybe they weren't as ready as they'd been saying. He withdrew from the kitchen, leaving the older folks to their arguing, and headed upstairs to check on his pack. They weren’t allowed to bring much, for the sake of stealth, but Kili didn’t need that much anyway. Ori followed him out.

“Kili? It's been a while since I've asked. Have you found your soulmate yet?”

He made sure his back was to Ori before he rolled his eyes. He was sick of that question, but Ori was a nice guy and he didn’t want to offend him. “No, not yet.”

“Maybe you’ll find your soulmate on this quest.”

“With all that’s going on, I don’t think there will be much time to check everybody for soulmate tattoos as we go.” Ori started to speak, but Kili barrelled on. “Besides, I don’t need a soulmate to be happy. I can be perfectly fine with or without a soulmate. Just like Fili.”

Ori nodded. “That’s a good outlook.”

Kili zipped up his backpack. “Besides, who are we going to meet that could be my soulmate?”

* * *

Tauriel collapsed on her bed and groaned loudly into her pillow. She could hear Legolas moving around to her left, probably unpacking and putting everything away neatly before bed. “When will your father understand the fact that our soulmarks _don’t match_??” she asked him, voice muffled by the pillow.

She could almost hear Legolas shrug. “You’ve never shown him yours, and apparently any girl I’m friends with is suspect. Even if they say they don’t match.”

“Not boys? You could be gay or bi or something.”

“I don’t even know if I’m interested in that stuff.” Legolas’s voice was quieter at that. She decided not to pursue it, choosing instead to continue griping about their soulmark situation.

“He doesn’t ask anyone else in the guard, though! Only me!” Tauriel was aware her voice was getting whinier, but she didn’t care.

“We’re roommates. He’s bound to be suspicious.”

“Why? Whyyyyyyyyyyyy?” Tauriel kicked at her stiff mattress repeatedly.

Legolas chuckled. “Ah, how they’d tease you if they saw this side of the stoic Captain of the Guard.”

“They’re not going to.” Tauriel sat up. Making sure Legolas was on the other side of the room, she pulled back her sleeve to examine her soulmark again, as she did when no one or only Legolas was around. It had only appeared recently, and she was still confused by it. It almost looked like an orange moon, surrounded by white, freckly, star-like marks. There were a collection of lines on the moon. It almost looked like a word, but not in any language she could recognize. So her soulmate didn’t live in the area and probably wasn’t an elf. It was pretty big for a soulmark, and quite simple compared to other elves’.

“Can I see yet?”

“All you need to know is that it doesn’t match the picture of yours that your father has on the board of his office.” Tauriel pulled her sleeve back down to cover it. Not many elves were accepting of cross-racial soulmates, and her soulmark seemed to indicate one.

“He’s getting desperate. I’m pretty sure it’s not an elf at this point, since nobody anywhere has seen anything like it. He might even start asking men about it.”

“But not dwarves, right?”

Legolas snorted. “Like he would ever.”

Tauriel sneaked another peek at her soulmark again. It was pretty, in a way, even if it did look like a collection of battle scars and had a foreign language adorning it.

“Is that Dwarvish?”

Tauriel yanked her sleeve back down, realizing too late that Legolas was in sight proximity. “Where?”

“Your soulmark has Dwarvish on it?”

“I- I don’t know. I’ve never seen Dwarvish.”

“Here, let me see.”

Tauriel sighed and exposed her arm again. Legolas looked closer at the lines. “Yeah, that looks like Dwarvish. That’s kinda crazy.”

“My soulmate is a dwarf?”

“I dunno. You should find out what it means.”

“And ask whom? Your languages teacher?”

“He doesn’t actually know Dwarvish.” Legolas hung up his belt and holster. “I dunno. Next time we see dwarves, maybe.”

“Yeah. Like that’s going to happen anytime soon.”

* * *

“We are approaching Mirkwood company land,” Gandalf announced. The Company slowed their bikes and gazed up at the enormous trees marking the border around Mirkwood. The forest was thick, dark, and looked as though it went on for miles. It was probably full of security traps and patrols and whatever else Thranduil, the head of Mirkwood Co, wanted to stick in there. Maybe wild animals. Whatever the case, it didn’t look very pleasant.

“Put the bikes on the side of the road. Beorn will be along to pick them up in a bit.”

Mr Boggins got off his bike and observed the forest. “It looks… sick. Like there’s a disease... “

“Please don’t start quoting poetry, Mister Boggins. It’s our break,” Kili joked. Bilbo didn’t seem to hear him.

“Gandalf, isn’t there any other way?”

“It’ll take longer. Thranduil’s security is sparse as long as you stick to a back road.” Gandalf was checking his phone as he spoke, looking troubled. “I’m afraid I must leave. I have business elsewhere.”

Kili looked up, slightly alarmed. Gandalf was leaving again?

“Gandalf-” Bilbo began to protest.

“Stay on the path and you will be fine. Stay on the path!” With that, he hopped on his motorcycle and sped away.

“Comforting,” Fili muttered.

* * *

Legolas barged into the room and grabbed his holster. “Intruders, about halfway through the forest going west to east, off of any registered paths.” He flashed a grin at Tauriel. “Security duty, Captain.”

Tauriel rolled off the bed and grabbed her weapons. “Walking distance?”

“Yeah, but we’d better run. They’re in the spider danger zone.”

“Great.” She finished loading all of her various weaponry into place. “Let’s get a move on.”

* * *

The forest was hazy and deep. Kili felt like he’d been walking forever. Nothing else existed except one foot going in front of the other, the swirling patterns on the trees, the whispering voices in the branches. He could hear confused muttering behind him. Path. Stay on the path… that was what… Gandalf? Gandalf said that. Yeah.

Mr Boggins? Mr Boggins had disappeared. Had he ever been there? They were arguing. Dori was complaining, as usual. It was much too loud. His head was pounding. The path was gone. Path… had to find the path… it was important. Someone pushed Fili, and Kili instinctively moved to push them back. Skittering noises above them registered, but he didn’t bother to look up.

He didn’t remember when he got stuck. He felt a bit woozy, but something was beginning to wake him from his trance. Spiders...? He’d seen spiders. Yes, enormous ones. Bigger than he’d ever seen, bigger than… more than they should be. Kili giggled a little. Big spiders. Not a problem, he was safe in this…

He very nearly swore once he realized his position. He was upside down!! In a web! There were enormous spiders out there! _They were going to eat him!!_

He tried wiggling around, trying to get free. Kili could hear muffled grunting and panicked noises coming from other directions- the others were still there, then, and some no longer in their trances either. Hissing and clicking gave him an idea of where the disproportionate spiders were. His sword was on his back. If he could only get it free-

The hissing noises suddenly increased in volume, then faded away. They were going somewhere. Kili strained to hear what was going on. One spider seemed to have been left behind- it was making clicking noises as someone- Bombur?- gave out muffled shrieks. Suddenly, he heard the spider screech in agony. Was it dying? Had Bombur fallen and been able to kill it?

The cord by which he was hanging began to vibrate. Someone was sawing at it. Was someone free? If that was the case, then they were all saved, so long as the person free wasn’t caught. It might’ve been Bombur.

He fell in his cocoon, but the impact was softer than he expected- and noisier. Muffled complaining came from beneath him as everyone tried to wiggle their ways out of the webs. Somebody pulled at the webs on him until he could get out. They all had their weapons drawn, warily on the lookout for more giant spiders. Thorin motioned for them to move forward. Every single member of the company was still covered in clingy web, and all were scared and still out of focus from whatever was in the air, but when the first spiders attacked, they were able to hold their own.  Gandalf had forbidden the usage of guns on their quest- too loud and attention-drawing- so many of them had rather old fashioned weapons. Thorin swung an old sword probably used more for decoration than actual fighting that he’d picked up from a previous encounter Kili didn’t want to remember. Kili had his bow and arrows, and Fili had taken it upon himself to find and bring as many sharp objects as he could find in a fifty mile vicinity of their home. All of them had become rather used to the lack of noises related to exploding powder, so they were all caught off guard by a loud gunshot.

A blond elf parkoured his way down from the trees, shooting spiders as he went. Kili made a face at his obvious showing off. The elf slid down the tree and under a spider, grotesquely slicing it open as he went, and jumped up to point a gun in Kili’s uncle’s face.

“Don't think I won’t kill you, dwarf,” he growled. “It would be my pleasure.”

Elves surrounded them, pointing their weapons and driving the dwarves into a defensive position. They were caught.

* * *

Tauriel ran after Legolas through the tree branches. The thickness of the forest and the tightly woven branches were great for speedy transportation throughout, as long as you’d trained yourself to be confident in where you were stepping. Legolas, having been practically raised in the trees, always showed off more around the rest of the Guard. Tauriel liked to think she took a bit of a more practical approach. As they neared the commotion, she hung back to give herself the element of surprise, if needed.

She could see that the Guard had the intruders surrounded. Dead spiders were scattered about the forest floor- they'd have to send in a cleanup crew for that. The group of trespassers appeared to be dwarves. No elven or intruder casualties-

A loud yell interrupted her train of thought. One of the interlopers spun around. “KILI!!”

Tauriel sprang into action, running down a tree branch and drawing her gun, shooting a spider in her way. She jumped from the tree and hit the ground in a roll, coming up with a knife and immediately stabbing the spider she knew would be in front of her. She turned around and shot the spider dragging away the lone dwarf. He looked back at her, and she was surprised at how young he looked. Most dwarves she’d heard of or seen pictures of were old, with long beards and thick eyebrows. The spider she’d stabbed behind her screeched, and she redirected her attention to battling the threat. Legolas would’ve just shot it point blank, she knew, but that was a waste of bullets, in her opinion.

“Throw me a knife!” the young dwarf shouted, probably spotting another spider heading his way. Was he not armed? “QUICK!”

“If you think I’m giving you a weapon, dwarf,” she snarled, slightly preoccupied with her struggle with the spider, “you’re mistaken!!” On the last word, she whirled and threw her knife directly into the eyes of the spider advancing on him. It screeched and fell over. The dwarf turned around and looked at her again, seeming awed. He was quite young, and more attractive than she’d been led to believe dwarves usually were to elves.

It took a moment to register, but when it did, it hit her like a truck.

Dwarves.

They were dwarves.

She had Dwarvish on her arm.

She couldn’t just show them her soulmark, though. This had to be thought through very well. Tauriel herded the dwarf back towards his group, lost in thought.

“ _Are the spiders dead_?” Legolas asked in Elvish.

“ _Yes, but more will come_.”

He tilted his head.

“ _They are growing stronger_.”

He shook his head. “ _They’re just experiments. There can’t be many left._ ”

“ _Talk to your father. Maybe if you intervened-_ ”

“ _He’d never listen_.” Legolas turned back to the dwarves. The young dwarf she’d saved had a phone out and was tapping away on it. She’d have to confisticate that once they got to the cells.

She found herself walking near him as they marched their prisoners back to the compound. He was looking at Google Translate.

“ _...You… frequent… here… often… fire?_ ” he stammered in broken Elvish.

She stifled a laugh. “I do speak the common tongue.”

He turned red. “I know.” He tapped more on his phone. “ _My… companions… speak… not… Elvish. I… believe wholeheartedly… you… radiant as the golden tree Laurelin._ ”

Tauriel could not stop the blush. “Google Translate is very unreliable.”

He grinned. “You’re blushing.”

Tauriel tried to reinstate her straight face. “ _I am doing no such thing, dwarf, but if you really want to know, I know you are saying you find me attractive because I have been reading what you’re putting into Google Translate. I also think you are slightly attractive- for a dwarf._ ” She kept her voice down in case one of the other guards were listening.

“Too fast, too fast…” The dwarf seemed distressed that his app wasn’t keeping up with her fluency.

“Common tongue is more convenient.”

The dwarf kept his mouth shut the rest of the way there, though he did keep looking up resources for learning Sindarin.

* * *

Kili noticed that the red-haired elf didn’t have a visible soulmark. It was probably something small and elfy. Heck, she probably already had a soulmate- but she didn’t seem to be rejecting his pitiful advances in any way. Maybe she didn’t.

Fili kept shooting him glances, a mixture of confusion and warning. They both knew better than anybody how much bottled up disdain Thorin had for elves, especially the head of Mirkwood. _So why_ , Fili seemed to be asking, _do you appear to be hitting on that elf??_ Kili simply grinned back and shrugged.

They were marched down to a floor made up of entirely too many holding cells. Really, how many people did they expect to come here and disturb the peace? Still, there were thirteen dwarves and a hobbit, so perhaps they had the right idea. Thorin was taken away, probably to talk to the elven leader, and the rest of the dwarves were marched to individual cells. Kili had the luck to have the redhead as his escort.

It was hot down in the holding cell floor. He was already sweating a lot with his three layers and boots. He hoped the redhead didn’t mind or didn’t notice, although that was doubtful. One of the adjectives often used to describe dwarves was "smelly". He glanced at her covertly to gauge a reaction and saw that she’d rolled her sleeves up a bit on her arms. She seemed very fit, and he quietly admired the obvious muscles she had. It took him a moment to notice the pale, scar-like stars peeking out from under her right sleeve.

He felt a jolt in his stomach. Was she-

She saw him looking at her arm and seemed to realize part of her soulmark was visible. She rolled her sleeves down again, seeming embarrassed. Kili decided to take a risk.

“Aren’t you going to search me?”

He waited until she was looking at him straight on. “I could have anything down my trousers.”

He expected another blush or at least some shock, maybe a glance at her arm where her soulmark was. Instead, she maintained eye contact and replied, straight-faced, “Or nothing.” She confiscated his phone and closed the cell door, maintaining eye contact throughout. As she walked away, Kili pressed his face against the cell bars and grinned slowly. He definitely liked her.

* * *

He’d seen it. He had to have. That was why he asked the question. She was lucky she was prepared for such questions, otherwise she probably would’ve stared at him in shock for a good five minutes. Was he making an innuendo, or was he referring to the glimpse he’d had of her soulmark? Did he have it on his leg? That could be potentially embarrassing. How could she have forgotten? The heat of the dungeon was oppressive, but she’d dealt with worse! She was so-

“ _Tauriel, why is that dwarf looking at you like that?_ ”

Tauriel jerked out of her panicked train of thought. “ _Who knows_?” She realized she might’ve seemed defensive and tried to compensate. “ _He is quite tall, for a dwarf…_ ” Oh, no. That sounded like she thought he was attractive. Which she did, but Legolas didn’t need to know that. “ _Don’t you think_?” Wow. What a stupid question. She tried to hide her embarrassment as she headed for the stairs.

“ _Taller than some, but no less ugly_.” He waited as she walked away, maybe for her to laugh. She didn’t.

* * *

Kili wished he could take a look at his soulmark. It would be so much easier if it’d been on his arm or his ankle or even his stomach, but noooo, it had to be on his back, where he couldn’t see it unless he had several mirrors at his disposal. He couldn’t mentally compare the star scars on her arm to his now.

The elves had taken most everything- his phone, his backpack, the weapons that he’d dropped- but they’d somehow failed to find his runestone. He rubbed his thumb over the words, exactly the same as the ones on his back. And possibly the same as the ones that could be on the red-haired guard’s arm. She seemed to keep it well hidden, though. Perhaps he’d get lucky. It seemed they’d be there for a while.

* * *

Tauriel hung back in the hallway. Thranduil had probably recently finished talking to the dwarf leader, and that would probably have put him in a bad mood. Perhaps she should come back-

“I know you’re there.”

Shoot.

“Why do you linger in the shadows?”

She took a deep breath and walked forward, into the light of the spacious room. “I was coming to talk to you.”

Seeing that it was her, Thranduil turned away and poured himself some alcohol. Tauriel wasn’t sure if she should be offended at that. “I thought I ordered those abominations to nature cleared out of the forest months ago.”

“We did, sir, but they keep coming from the south. If we could lead a party on their source-”

“I’ve told you before, I will not allow it.”

Tauriel sighed internally. Every time, it was the same. “Won’t they spread to other places? With less security and defense?”

“Not my problem.” His voice was unsettlingly majestic for such a casual statement. “I don’t own those lands, they can deal with things themselves.”

Tauriel nodded and turned to leave, trying to resist rolling her eyes.

“Legolas said you fought well today.”

Tauriel turned to acknowledge him. Thranduil was staring at her with a slightly threatening smile.

“He’s grown very fond of you.”

Not again. Every conversation she’d ever had with Thranduil was like a record- a scratchy, broken record that became increasingly shrill over time. Did records do that?

“I assure you, sir, Legolas only thinks of me as captain of the guard.”

“Perhaps once, but not anymore.”

She had to get out of this. “I don’t think you’d let him marry someone of my… status.”

“You’re right. I would not. So stop leading him on.”

Tauriel felt like screaming. It wasn’t her fault that Thranduil had the stupid misconception that Legolas _liked_ her. Even if Legolas did like her, it still wouldn’t be her fault! She exited quickly to stop herself from flying at her superior with knives drawn.

Back in her dorm, she took a few minutes to scream into her pillow before getting down to more serious business. She copied down the letters on her arm to a piece of paper, carefully checking and rechecking to make sure they were accurate. Then, she waited for her shift on guard duty.

As the time approached, she could feel herself growing more and more nervous, twisting the paper she held in her hands as she sat on her bed. What if the words were rude or offensive? She’d hate for them to think that she was somehow trying to insult them with a language she didn’t even know. What if it was a name and whoever read it knew them? Would they somehow know? She’d tried to be careful about concealing her soulmark, would that give her away? In any case, it was definitely odd. An elf asking a dwarf to translate their language for them- that had probably never happened.

She was almost relieved when it was time to go down to the holding cells. The guard she was replacing also seemed relieved- evidently the rest of the dwarves were a grumpy bunch.

Tauriel tried to survey the prisoners- detainees- from the office. She obviously wasn’t going to ask the young dwarf- since he could possibly be her soulmate and could have the same words on his body somewhere and would know if she asked him. The other dark-haired dwarf seemed very antagonistic towards elves, judging by his rumored reaction to Thranduil’s business offers. The rest of the dwarves also seemed rather irritated when addressed by elves, but two of them seemed amicable towards conversation. Tauriel decided upon the older-looking one with white hair and a long beard- the younger one with the bowl cut and sketchbook was probably friends with the flirty one and might mention it. Plus, the older one most likely knew more of the language.

She carefully approached the cell. The dwarves around him seemed to be asleep, but he was staring thoughtfully at the wall.

“Excuse me?”

The dwarf turned to look at her. It was probably awkward, addressing a detainee like that. Tauriel wished she’d thought this through better.

“C-could you- uh, would you mind translating this for me?” She thrust the paper towards him, cheeks burning.

He reached through the bars and took it, smoothing it out to peer at the characters. “Where did you get this?”

“I… I found it. In a textbook.”

The dwarf raised an eyebrow, but said nothing further. “It says ‘ _inikh dê_ ’. In the common tongue, it translates to ‘return to me’.”

Tauriel let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Return to me?”

The dwarf nodded and handed the paper back. He looked contemplative. “You know, I do believe I know a fellow with a soul-”

“Shh!”

She hadn’t meant it to sound so harsh, it’d just slipped out. She’d probably given it away with that. The dwarf’s face suggested the same. She stared at him awkwardly for a few moments, then turned quickly to walk away. That had gone better than she expected, but much worse than she’d imagined.

Most of the rest of the dwarves appeared to be asleep. She saved the flirty dwarf’s cell for last, procrastinating the inevitable soulmark question. She could see from a distance that he was playing with a smooth stone that apparently hadn’t been confiscated at the initial check. As she approached, he hid the stone in his hands.

“The stone in your hand…” she began, trying to sound official, “what is it?”

His voice was gravelly and serious when he responded. “It is a talisman.”

She couldn’t help taking a step closer to hear him better. A talisman? For witchcraft? Did dwarves practice sorcery?

“If any but a dwarf sees the runes on this stone… they will be forever CURSED!” On the last word, he turned the stone towards her. Startled, she stepped back and saw the runes carved into the stone. Cursed?? He’d been so friendly before. Obviously she’d been wrong. She turned to leave.

“Or not.”

She paused, looking back at him with incredulity. What?

“Depends on whether you believe in that sort of thing. I mean, it’s just a token.” He grinned and gave a soft chuckle. She hesitantly smiled back.

“It’s a runestone. My mother gave it to me so I would remember my promise.”

Aw. “What promise?”

“That I would come back to her.”

Dang. That was cute.

“She worries. She thinks I’m reckless.” He scoffed lightheartedly and smiled again.

“Are you?”

“Nah.” He tossed the stone up into the air again, but missed it as it came back down. It bounced towards the divide in the middle of the room. Tauriel turned swiftly and stepped on it, an inch before the drop. They seriously needed to consider guardrails in their budgets. She picked it up and held it up to the light, trying to see the runes. The stone itself was very pretty- deep green that appeared blue in the right light. She realized suddenly that the runes on the stone were the same as the ones she had on her paper- and her arm.

“Sounds like quite a party you’re having.”

Tauriel shook herself out of her shock and realized she could hear a bass line and loud, drunken shouting faintly. She’d completely forgotten. “It’s Mereth en Gilieth. The Feast of Starlight. All light is sacred to elves, but out here especially- where we can actually see them- we love the light of the stars.”

“I- we- I’ve always thought it’s a cold light.”

She turned back to him, momentarily forgetting both the runes and the party.

“Remote, and far away.” He seemed lost in thought.

“It is memory, precious and pure!” she protested. He gazed up at her as though he hadn’t considered that. Realizing she sounded a bit forthcoming again, she dropped her eye contact. “Like your promise.”

She offered the stone back to him. He took it from her palm and returned it to wherever he kept it.

“I have walked there sometimes,” she confessed quietly, smiling as if she was sharing a secret. She wasn’t, but it felt almost like she was. “Past the forest and up into the night.” She could almost feel her words becoming more and more flowery, but she didn’t care. “I have seen the world fall away and the white light of forever fill the air.”

“I saw a firemoon once,” Kili told her, tone soft. She turned back to him, curious. Mirkwood didn’t allow many opportunities to see rarities like firemoons. “It rose over the pass near Dunland. Huge! It was beautiful, red and gold. It filled the sky.”

Tauriel sat down on the steps near his cell, enthralled.

“We were an escort to some independent craftsmen in Ered Luin, they sold... silverware, I think. We took the Greenway south, keeping the mountain to our left as we drove… and then it appeared. This huge firemoon, lighting our path! I wish I could show you the caverns we went through, they’re amazing…”

* * *

Legolas squinted to make sure he was seeing right. Why the frick was Tauriel talking to a dwarf detainee while on guard duty?

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Tauriel returned to her room smiling. It was nice, talking with Kili. He was much nicer than most elves had led her to believe dwarves were, and they obviously shared interests. Remembering his supposed fascination with her language earlier, she’d tried to teach him some Sindarin phrases. He’d purposely butchered pronunciations to make her laugh, but he’d gotten a few phrases down well enough to be understood. They’d talked for nearly her entire shift, and she was almost reluctant to leave once the time was up.

The smile left her face quickly once she got back to her room, though. Legolas was sitting on his bed, arms folded, obviously waiting for her return.

“What?”

“You were on duty.”

Tauriel exaggeratedly rolled her eyes and sighed, walking over to her bunk to discard her weapons. “It’s _boring_ on duty. You wouldn’t know, you don’t even have to take a shift in the cells if you don’t want to.”

“I’m almost tempted to volunteer so I can give that dwarf a good scolding!”

She laughed. “You sound like an old grandmother.”

“You shouldn’t be talking to them, Tauriel! They’re _dwarves_! They’re prisoners! Learn to knit or something and pass the time that way or whatever. Why are you talking to them??”

Tauriel turned around and met his gaze straight on. “You wanna know why?”

“Yeah. I think I do.”

“I think he might be my soulmate.”

Tauriel found immediate satisfaction in Legolas’s facial reaction, but started to regret just telling him like that. She turned around to face her bed again, embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

“Th- wh- whuh… _him_???”

His voice was filled with near-disgust. Tauriel winced.

“No, no, that can’t be right. I heard him. That was disgusting, the- the innuendo he made at you. Dwarves- no. I know it’s Dwarvish on your soulmark, but it _can’t_ be that one.”

“I don't think it was fully an innuendo. He saw my soulmark. Part of it, anyway. I think he recognized it and was kind of… suggesting it? In a way that wouldn’t make others suspicious-”

“I’m suspicious!” Legolas exploded. “He- he absolutely CANNOT be your soulmate! No! He’s gross and filthy and- he’s short, Tauriel, there’s almost- there has to be half a foot difference between your heights-”

“Have you ever considered that maybe your father’s prejudice towards dwarves is affecting you?” Tauriel shouted back, suddenly furious. “Is affecting all of us? Everything you’re pointing out is something your father says is bad about dwarves! It could be applied to any dwarf your father has ever encountered! They’re general statements and _they don’t hold_ _against my soulmate_!”

“IT’S NOT PREJUDICE!!” Legolas bellowed, jumping to his feet and towering over her. Tauriel resisted the urge to flinch and briefly considered standing on her bed to give herself the advantage of height. She stared at him stubbornly, waiting for him to think about it a bit more.

“You don’t know him,” Tauriel insisted after a pause, lowering her voice. “Kili is a wonderful person, and I refuse to let your father’s general judgements apply to my potential friend or soulmate.”

Legolas turned away and didn’t say anything. She held her tense position for a moment before relaxing and moving to put her gear away. She suddenly felt an acute sense of regret for yelling at him like that. She should’ve just let him say those things- ignored him. Still, she wasn’t going to apologize. A lot of what she’d said was true, she was realizing.

Neither of them spoke as they went about their nightly routines. They avoided each other as much as possible in their cramped quarters and went to bed early. Tauriel couldn’t help hoping this wouldn’t turn into something too permanent. Legolas was her closest friend, even if he could be a bit of a jerk.  

* * *

To Kili’s knowledge, Thranduil could technically keep them in custody for as long as he wanted- and it looked like he was going to. Conditions down in the cells did improve as they were there- they must’ve found a way to fix the air conditioning- but it was incredibly disheartening to be stuck like they were down in the cells, nearer than they’d ever been to Erebor, and yet not able to reach it. Kili enjoyed Tauriel’s company, though. They both carefully avoided the topic of soulmarks in their conversations, trying to maintain the light, easy companionship they had. Tauriel did seem rather embarrassed to be seen talking to him, though- she rarely talked much to him unless the rest of the company was asleep and she was the only one on duty. He could understand her discomfort- elves and dwarves had a long-standing dislike of each other, even before Thorin and Thranduil had begun their decades-long feud. And he didn’t mind the arrangement. It meant that he could slyly grin or wink at her whenever she passed by his cell, and he was usually rewarded with a shy smile or occasionally a very faint blush. It was exciting, in a way, like it was a big secret. Which it technically was.

The rest of the dwarves were not as pleased with their accommodations. This was yet another setback in the seemingly endless string of obstacles thrown at them, and some had begun to mumble doubts- were they not meant to reach Erebor? Was their quest doomed from the start? Oin, however, would loudly maintain that ‘the ravens said it was time!’ whenever he heard objections, so most of the discussion had faded to a noise level Oin couldn’t hear, and thus, to a level Kili couldn’t really hear. It was incredibly boring down on the prison floor, and he and Fili hadn’t even gotten adjoining cells- Fili was across from him. They were, however, able to communicate, both vaguely knowing how to sign for communication with Bifur. They’d sometimes play Eye-Spy this way. Once, Kili had spotted Tauriel’s friend- brother? boyfriend? soulmate?- on the next floor, the one who’d seemed overly antagonistic towards him. He’d signed at Fili, “I spy with my little eye something blond and tall and stupid”- or, more accurately, “I- see- with- eye- yellow- hair- tall- dumb”. The wording made it difficult for Fili to get it, but once he did, he’d admonished Kili through a series of ambiguous signs. Kili could see him laughing quietly, though.

At one point, Bofur had sighed loudly during a meal before breaking into loud song. The elf on duty looked increasingly uncomfortable as more dwarves joined in the singing and began to throw food around, which only had caused them to sing louder and laugh, but that had lost its appeal after a bit. Kili had read somewhere that confinement could do things like that to the mind, and he was grateful he had Tauriel and Fili to break the depressing monotony. Thorin had refused to talk to anyone besides Balin since he’d gotten back from “negotiations” with Thranduil, and Kili wasn’t sure how he was holding up.

On approximately their twenty third day of imprisonment, Kili was considering smacking his head into the wall repeatedly to pass the time. Tauriel’s shift was once every day and a half, and she’d come last night, so he had this whole day and a bit before he’d see her again, and even then she probably wouldn’t talk to him because most of the dwarves would be awake. He was running out of things to keep himself occupied with. The elves, after a few days, had permitted Ori and Dori to have their knitting needles and yarn back, and Bifur had even gotten a couple of chunks of wood and a carving knife. Nori had thus far been unsuccessful with his attempts to pick the lock on his cell. It was some good security, he’d admitted.

“I’ll bet the sun is rising,” Bofur called glumly. “It’s probably nearly dawn.”

It was hard to keep track of time in the cells. There were no windows to the outside, and even if there were, the forest was thick and deep. Kili couldn’t even see a clock from his cell. They probably had one in the office. Maybe that was to keep their prisoners dependent on them or something. The dwarves had thus far refused to ask the time, though.

“We’re never going to reach the mountain, are we?” Ori asked quietly in a rare moment of discouragement.

“Not stuck in here, you’re not,” whispered a familiar voice they hadn’t heard in days. Metal jangled as their burglar lifted a ring of keys up to eye height.

Thorin lept to his feet, showing more energy than he had since the last time he’d insulted Thranduil. “Bilbo!!”

The dwarves called his name in jubilation, nearing a cheer.

“Shh! There are guards nearby!!”

Bilbo unlocked Thorin’s cell first, slowly working his way down the line of locked cells. One after the other, they quietly slunk out of their cells and greeted one another in low tones, trying to stay out of the view of the elf in the office. The dwarves left most of their gear in their cells, recognizing it was too much to take with them for a quick escape. Mr Boggins led them all down a few flights of stairs to the Mirkwood company’s basement, where a lot of barrels- probably full of alcohol- resided. Two elves, evidently incredibly drunk, sat with their heads on a table, sometimes jerking in their sleep as if uncomfortable.

“I don’t believe it, we’re in the cellars!” Kili hissed, trying to keep his voice down in order to not wake the elves.

“You’re supposed to be getting us out of here, not further in!” Bofur protested indignantly.

“I know what I’m doing!” Bilbo shot back in a whisper.

“Shh!!”

A large rack of barrels sat in the middle of the room. Bilbo explained in hushed tones that the barrels were loaded into a small boat that was driven down to the Laketown docks.

“So we’re taking the boat?”

“No. We’re taking the barrels. Climb in.”

A chorus of quiet grumbling rose from the assembled dwarves. Bilbo looked desperately at Thorin.

“Do as he says!”

The dwarves complained quietly for another precious few moments before complying. Kili chose a barrel next to Fili and slid in. “This seems dangerous, huh?”

Fili shrugged. “Whatever gets us out of here.”

Kili adjusted himself into a slightly more comfortable position and considered the fact that he might never see Tauriel again. His possible soulmate. If not that, then at least a good friend. Maybe after Erebor had been retaken he could come back, pick up his stuff, and maybe catch a glimpse of her before leaving again. Or perhaps he could keep finding excuses to come back.

Thorin marched past him, clambering into the empty barrel next to Fili. He seemed to be in a slightly better mood than he had been in the cells, but still a bit grumpy.

“Now what?” Bofur asked Bilbo, who had not taken a barrel. Everyone poked their heads out to look at Mr Boggins.

“Hold your breath,” he replied decisively, turning to a lever near him. Kili decided it was best to put his head back inside the barrel.

* * *

Tauriel ran to the security office, shoving her weapons into their holsters as she went. There’d been a breach, the caller had reported, but they hadn’t said anything else over the phone line.

“What’s going on?” she demanded, striding briskly through the door.

“The camera coverage from the cell floor- the dwarves aren’t there.”

It was true. The cameras showed nothing but empty cells. Tauriel furrowed her brow.

“Back up the footage,” she ordered.

Seven minutes ago, a small being- smaller than the dwarves- had suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a ring of keys and let out the dwarves, leading them downwards. Why were they going down? Where were they planning to go after…?

“Where is the guard with the keys?”

“We don’t know. He might be in the office.”

Downstairs. Downstairs… kitchens, storage, cellars...

“Follow me!”

She led a group of security elves down the many staircases, trying her best to not trip as she went. She managed to get down enough steps to the wine cellar to catch sight of the barrel  trapdoor closing. They were going out by way of the river.

* * *

The river was much faster than Kili had expected. He considered asking Bilbo if he was sure that the elves took the barrels in a boat- perhaps instead they whitewater rafted the barrels down to Laketown? He knew they were supposed to be quieter, but it was hard to not scream as you were flung down a raging river in a small barrel never meant for such travels. The current was quite strong, and the dwarf barrels were swept every which way. Kili couldn’t help but wonder if drowning in a riptide felt like this.

The current slowed slightly as the elven gate came into view. The dwarves were all miraculously still right side up, and they were coughing and gasping for breath with no regards to stealth. Despite that, Kili was beginning to hope they’d make it when an alarm sounded in the distance. His heart sank. They were going to be stopped again, and captured. This time, Tauriel might not even talk to him, since they’d tried to escape. Escapees probably did not win favorable attention from the captain of the guard.

The elven security massed at a water gate. A guard pulled a lever above the gate, and the gate began to close.

“No… NO!!” Thorin yelled. His barrel bumped against the bars. All the barrels congregated near the gate, and Kili found himself floating by the left bank. The elves drew their weapons, in case the dwarves would try to fight back. Kili felt his hope draining out of him. Caught again.

One of the elves suddenly made a horrible noise and fell forward into the water. An Orc appeared in the gap where the elf had been, grinning horribly at the Company. The Orcs, an enormous gang scattered throughout Middle Earth, had been tracking them throughout the journey. Their leader, who went by the name of Azog, was out for revenge. Thorin had sliced off part of his arm in a forced gang fight after Azog had shot his grandfather on a dwarven property called Moria. Consequently, the Orc gang members inhabiting Moria were evicted. Azog and his son Bolg had been after dwarven blood- especially Thorin’s- since. Kili didn’t quite understand why. If anything, Thorin should’ve been out for them. He probably would’ve been if he hadn’t heard the rumor that Azog had died of blood loss after the retaking of Moria.

More Orcs found ways over the elven wall, yelling in their guttural language. The Company was defenseless. Some of them were safer under the ledge, near the gate, but it was still a dangerous position. Orcs were jumping into the river to attack them while someone distant shouted orders at them. This was an organized attack. The dwarves either had to get weapons or get out. It was at that point Kili realized his proximity to the lever that operated the gates.

He pulled himself out of his barrel and haphazardly made his way along several other barrels to the bank. An Orc swung at him, and he ducked and punched them in the face. Dwalin threw him a large knife he’d recently acquired from an attempted attack, and Kili used it to block his opponent’s blows, eventually shoving them into the river. The elves were trying to fight back, but the attack was unexpected and they weren’t prepared. Kili could see that Bolg himself was leading them, taking security out with a larger than average baseball bat.

Kili took on another Orc, wishing they were a little less experienced at combat. He had to get to the lever fast. A strangled grunt came from behind him, and he realized that Fili had managed to throw something sharp at an Orc trying to attack him from behind. He pushed his opponent off the ledge and continued towards his goal. An Orc swung at him from above, but he managed to evade it. No more Orcs were in his path, maybe he would-

He inhaled sharply. He wasn’t moving. For a moment, there was only numbness and shock. What’d happened? Pain was starting to creep up from his leg. His leg… was he bleeding? He wasn’t used to these sensations. _I… I’ve been shot._

Fili screamed his name as Kili collapsed, still trying to reach the lever. The bullet- was it a bullet or was it an arrow?- in his leg was causing him excruciating agony, nearly blinding him and leaving him helpless on his back. Was that normal? He'd never thought bullet wounds hurt this bad. As another Orc approached, he could only watch them run towards him- until a shot rang out from behind him. The Orc fell over, screeching. Kili whipped his head around, looking for the source.

Tauriel ran gracefully down the opposite bank, surveying the scene with gun drawn and hair flying out behind her. Kili's immediate thought was  _Sweet Mahal, she's beautiful_. It startled him slightly, but he agreed with himself on that. _How does she manage to keep her hair out of her face, even when it's down?_

She fired another bullet in his direction, and Kili saw that another Orc had been getting closer to him while he was distracted. She drew her knives and attacked the nearest Orc, fluidly sending it into the river and spinning to battle the next. Bolg yelled at the rest of the gang, pointing at Tauriel. Kili felt compelled to help her, but in his condition, he would probably just present another obstacle for her. He instead focused on getting himself to the lever.

The blond elf instead came to her aid. Kili tried not to notice the exceptional elegance of the blond elf’s movements and how easily he took down so many trained Orcs.  Kili attempted to grit his teeth through the pain in his leg and forced himself up, dragging his body along the nearby steps. He managed to grab the lever and used his weight to drag it down, crying out in agony. He fell to the ground again, but he could hear the gate creaking open and the Company yelling as they were swept out, down the river. Mission accomplished. Sort of.

Bolg yelled at his gang, redirecting their attention to the prey getting away from them. A few of the dwarves had managed to hang back with an empty barrel, holding it in place for him. Fili shouted his name again, worried. Kili dragged himself over the ridge and landed squarely in the barrel, crying out again as the impact and the water aggravated his leg pain. He was barely able to see as they were pulled down the river.

* * *

The elves followed the orcs following the dwarves down the river, injuring as many as they could to set them off their course. Tauriel and Legolas were in the lead, managing to keep many of the dwarves in sight. Tauriel had a hard time seeing which was Kili. She shuddered to remember Kili’s shout of pain and how it’d distracted her so gravely, even to the point of nearly being injured or killed.

The dwarves were fighting back as best they could in the water. She had to admit, they were creative and very good at teamwork. The elves were more isolated in their fighting styles, and it worked well for them, but the dwarves seemed capable of fighting seamlessly both with others and on their own. One of the dwarves in particular impressed her- he was flung out of the water, still in his barrel, and bounced along the shore, barreling over a surprising number of Orcs before rolling to a stop, stuck. Until he punched out the bottom of the barrel, got to his feet, picked up two baseball bats and began spinning quickly, hitting anybody who came near him. The barrel acted as a makeshift shield for anything that came too close. Legolas was probably jealous of how awesome that was. The dwarf discarded the nearly destroyed barrel once he was close enough to the river and jumped into an empty one, tossing the bats to his teammates and proceeding to float away relatively calmly as though it was nothing special. Tauriel also took special note that the dwarf in question was red-haired. _You go, man_.

Legolas managed to catch up to the floating dwarves before she did. He took advantage of their positioning in the middle of the river and jumped on their heads, shooting at the Orcs as the barrels swerved down the river. Tauriel wanted to ask him if that was really necessary, or perhaps scream “WHAT THE FRICK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, YOU SHOW OFF??” in his direction. Either would work. He was jumping haphazardly from dwarf head to dwarf head, which was probably not favorable for the dwarves in question. There was a lot of spinning, too. Although the resulting shooting was impressive, the rather attention-drawing moves canceled it out.

Tauriel continued to take out the Orcs he’d ignored or left behind as Legolas took even more risks and tried even more impossible stunts. He’d made his way from dwarves to shore and continued spinning and flipping all over the place, even surfing on an Orc while shooting at others nearby. She wondered if he was expressing his negative feelings towards the dwarves by jumping on their heads. He seemed to be doing it a lot.

He’d made his way onto a ledge when Tauriel realized he wasn’t aware that there was an Orc creeping up behind him with a large, nasty blade. The Orc raised their sword above their head. Tauriel was about to call out when a knife came from the river, hitting the Orc squarely in the abdomen and causing it to double over in pain, probably saving Legolas’s life. The only dwarf in the position to do that had been Kili’s uncle. Thorin. Thorin Oakenshield had saved Legolas’s life.

Another Orc approached him from behind, wielding a bow and arrows. Tauriel tackled them, wrestling them to the ground and disarming them before holding her gun to their head. Legolas turned around. “ _Wait_!”

What, did he think she was just going to kill them?

_“Keep this one alive.”_

Evidently. She made a face at Legolas’s tone. The Orc snarled.

_“We need to have a talk about your increasingly stupid battle moves.”_

* * *

Kili staggered onto the shore, grimacing in extreme discomfort and falling to his knees. He was bleeding rather badly, and the water had not helped his condition. He gritted his teeth to hold back noises of pain. Bofur looked at him in concern. Kili tried to tone down the facial expressions he knew he was making.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

It was obvious he was lying, but he had to keep going. There was no way they were just going to leave him behind while reclaiming their homeland because he got shot once. The others had probably had worse.

“...soaking wet and none the better for it,” Thorin growled unhappily in the background.

“Excuse me?” The burglar sounded offended. His voice was much louder than Thorin’s complaint had been, causing most of the dwarves to look at him. “None the _better_? I suppose you’d like me to take you back to your nice, comfy cells, then! Lock you up until you think of a better plan!! I don’t think I’ll be able to get the keys again, even if I actually try. But that won’t matter! You’ll have a _plan_!!”

Thorin looked slightly taken aback and ashamed. Bilbo, too, seemed a bit embarrassed at his outburst after a moment, ducking his head and avoiding Thorin's eyes. Thorin dipped his head and mumbled what might’ve been an apology before moving away. Some of the dwarves closer to Bilbo awkwardly patted him on the back and thanked him.

Thorin seemed to recover quickly from his chagrin once he'd moved away from Bilbo. “On your feet! We have to keep moving!” he barked at the dwarves still trying to get out of their barrels.

“Kili’s hurt!” Fili protested. “His leg needs… some sort of medical attention.”

“There’s a portion of the gang following us. We keep moving.”

“To where?” Balin objected.

“To the mountain! We’re so close!” Bilbo panted, smiling at the older dwarf. He too seemed to have recovered remarkably quickly.

“A lake lies between us and that mountain,” Balin pointed out heavily. “And we have no way across it.”

“Then… we go around,” Mr Boggins suggested.

“The Orcs will run us down.” Dwalin sounded as unhappy as Thorin looked.

“Bind his leg.” Thorin jerked his head at Kili. “Quickly. You have two minutes.”

The older dwarves continued talking amongst themselves. Fili and Oin tried their best to bandage Kili’s leg with their limited resources.

“I think they brewed cider in my barrel,” Fili muttered to Kili. “If I never smell apples again for the rest of my life, I’ll die a happy dwarf.”

Kili chuckled through labored breathing. The binding hurt like heck.

The sound of a bowstring being pulled caught everyone’s attention. A tall, dark figure stood silhouetted against the light, holding an enormous bow and aiming at Ori, who was emptying his boots of water.

Dwalin rushed in front of the younger dwarf, holding a large branch. The archer put an arrow into the branch, nearly splitting it, and swung around, shooting the rock Kili was picking up out of his hand. Kili found that a bit hard to process for a moment.

“One more move, and you’re dead.” The man had a strong accent and reeked distinctly of fish. His statement was nearly impossible- there were fourteen members of the company, and he didn’t appear to have that many arrows. Still, no one wanted to be dead.

Balin slowly moved forward, raising his arms in submission. “Pardon me, but you’re from Laketown, aren’t you?”

The man redirected his arrow in Balin’s direction. Balin stopped moving, but continued talking, hesitantly persuasive.

“That boat over there… it wouldn’t be for hire, would it?”

The man lowered his bow slightly, looking still wary but interested. He headed for the barrels near the shoreline and began rolling them towards his boat.

Fili helped Kili closer to the sailing vessel. Kili leaned against a convenient rock outcropping to take the pressure off his leg. The dwarves simply watched as the man loaded the barrels onto his boat.

“And what makes you think I would help you?” the man finally asked, heaving the last of the barrels onto his vessel.

“Those boots have seen better days,” Balin pointed out. “As has that coat. No doubt you have some hungry mouths to feed. How many children do you have?”

“A boy and two girls.”

“And your wife, I bet she’s a beauty.” Balin offered a smile at the bowman.

“Aye.” The man paused slightly. “She was.”

Balin immediately stopped in his cajoling. “I’m- I’m so sorry…”

“Oh, come on, enough with the formalities!” Dwalin grumbled, just loud enough for the man to hear.

The man raised his eyebrows. “What’s your hurry?”

“What’s it to you?” Thorin shot back.

“I want to know where you’re from and where you’re going.” The bowman kept his tone light, but there was weight to the statement.

Balin mimicked the man in tone while lying to his face. “We’re from the Blue Mountains. We’re going to see our family in the Iron Hills.” 

“Really?” He ran his fingers over the worn wood of the barrels, giving Balin a suspicious glance. “I know where these barrels came from.”  

“So?” Thorin was making no effort to be polite in the face of transportation issues.

“I don’t know what business you had with the elves, but I don’t think it ended well.” He tossed the rope to a surprised Balin, turning away and stowing his bow in the hull of his boat. “All entrances are guarded. The mayor's wealth comes from trade with the Mirkwood company. He’d see you in prison before crossing Thranduil.”

“Isn’t there a way around that?”

“Aye. But for that, you’d need a smuggler.”

Balin caught the man’s arm. “For which we would pay double.”

The man considered it for a moment, then nodded. Kili grimly shoved himself off the wall, leaning a bit on Fili for support. The man turned his back and walked onto the boat, pretending not to notice the dwarven grumbling as they boarded the barge.

As they pulled away from the shore, Kili glanced back towards the river. The Orcs had followed the dwarves, so the rest of the elves should’ve been all right once he’d pulled the lever. Still, he worried. _Do I put her in danger?_

* * *

Tauriel circled the small space warily, keeping her eyes fixed on the Orc prisoner. Legolas was also in the room, but closer to the Orc, in case immediate backup was needed. Thranduil walked behind the Orc slowly, carefully choosing his words. He and Legolas were good at interrogation, especially when they had motivation- in this case, it was the thirteen elven guards in intensive care. Sometimes Tauriel doubted that the elven leader cared, but it was times like this he proved her wrong. He just had an odd way of showing his care. She was still unhappy with his foreign policy, though.

Thranduil sounded like he was quoting from a famous poet. “Such is the nature of evil. Out in the ignorance of the world, it festers and spreads, a shadow that grows in the dark, a sleepless malice as dark as the wall of oncoming night. So it ever was. So it will always be. In time, all foul things come forth.”

“You were tracking a company of thirteen dwarves,” Legolas snarled. “Why?”

“Not thirteen,” the Orc rasped, grinning at Tauriel. “Not anymore.”

Tauriel slowed. What?

“The young one. The black-haired archer. We got him with a specially crafted bullet.”

How would that affect anything? Was it poisoned? No, the force… no, it wouldn’t hold… that would be a needle, not a bullet… She tried frantically to calculate what the possibilities were while keeping a grim face.

“It’s in his blood. He’ll be choking on it soon.”

Maybe this special bullet would affect him somehow. Could Kili die from a leg wound? She tried to redirect her train of thought. It was obvious that somehow, the Orc knew something about their relationship. She didn’t ponder ‘how’ very long- the Orcs had their ways, undoubtedly. “Answer the question, filth,” she spat, trying not to let her voice wobble.

The Orc yelled something in another language, perhaps a deformed offshoot of Elvish, standing up at his table and lunging towards her. Legolas jumped in and restrained him. Tauriel stared at the Orc straight on, whipping out her knives in a manner much more showy than the occasion called for. The Orc's words had reminded her that her anger and frustration were just under boiling point. Her potential soulmate was apparently poisoned, she was stuck here under the command of an incredibly biased superior, and Legolas still wasn’t speaking to her on anything but formal manners.

“I would not antagonize her,” Legolas warned the Orc, still not looking directly at Tauriel.

“Do you like killing things, Orc?” she asked, poison in her voice. “Do you like death?”

The Orc simply growled in response.

“Then let me give it to you!” She dove at the Orc with her weapons before her.

“ _Enough_!” Thranduil barked, just before her knives made contact. She held herself back, just barely. “ _Tauriel, leave_!”

She glared at him over the Orc’s head. _You are responsible for my anger as well._

“ _Go. Now._ ”

She glowered at the Orc. He made a horrid sort of choking noise, leering at her. She kept her knives out, just in case she might still get the chance to stab somebody, and slowly exited the room.

“I do not care about one dead dwarf,” she heard Thranduil say as she walked out.

_But I do._

* * *

The lake was cold and dreary looking, with fog lying low over the water. Ice and rock jutted out from the surface, but the bowman steered expertly around them. Kili huddled by Fili, shivering slightly.

“Look out!” Bofur shouted suddenly. Ruins of some ancient building rose from the water, but the man avoided them easily.

“What are you trying to do, drown us?” Thorin growled.

“I was born and bred on these waters, Master Dwarf. If I wanted to drown you, I would not do it here.”

That was a nice thought.

“Oh, I’ve had enough of this lippy lakeman. Let’s throw him off the boat and be done with it,” Dwalin grumbled.

Bilbo made a disgruntled noise. Obviously, he was still not happy with the two grumpy dwarves. “Oh... Bard, his name’s Bard.”

“How do you know?” Bofur asked.

“Uh, I asked him,” Bilbo shot back. Kili had had no idea that Mr Boggins could be this sassy.

“I don’t care what he calls himself, I don’t like him.” Dwalin’s face seemed to be stuck in a perpetual glare.

Balin sighed, counting coins. “We don’t have to like him, we simply have to pay him. Come on, lads, turn out your pockets.”

“How do you know he won’t betray us?” Dwalin muttered in Thorin’s direction.

“We don’t.”

They rode in silence for another few minutes.

“We’ve got a wee problem,” Balin announced. “We’re ten coins short.”

Thorin folded his arms and stared at Gloin. “Come on, Gloin. Give us what you have.”

Gloin reacted indignantly, as expected. “Don’t look to me! I have been _bled dry_ by this venture! And what have I seen for my investment? Nothing but misery and-”

Everyone suddenly went completely silent, staring at something in the distance. Gloin trailed off once he realized nobody was paying attention to him. Kili followed their gazes and saw a lone peak, much closer now than it’d seemed on the Carrock.

The Lonely Mountain.

Everybody silently began to stand in reverence, even Kili. It was aweing, being so close to the mountain on the property his uncle and his mother had once called home.

“Take it. Take it all.” Gloin shoved a sack of coins in Balin’s direction, not taking his eyes off of the Mountain. They all stood for a few moments in silence, marveling at the sight.

Bard walked urgently towards them. “Give me the money.”

“You’ll get the money once we’ve have our weapons,” Thorin replied firmly.

“If you value your freedom, you’ll do as I say.” Bard glanced at the stretch of fog before them warily. “There are guards ahead.”

* * *

Tauriel stepped lightly across the rocks by the riverbank, avoiding the carcass of a deer the Orcs had sloppily dismembered. It was easy to follow their trail on her own. Laketown wasn’t too far, even on foot. She’d hopefully be able to catch up with the Orcs before they did much damage, maybe even catch the dwarves and see if she could help Kili. She was sick of doing nothing, stuck on company land with nothing to do except patrol and kill spiders. The freedom of being alone and away from the oppressive Mirkwood air was satisfying.

A soft noise made her pause in her train of thought. She tilted her head ever so slightly before whipping out her gun and aiming it at the source. Legolas already had his gun out and aimed at her.

“ _I thought you were an Orc_ ,” she called, allowing a small smile.

“ _If I were an Orc, you would be dead_.” He smiled too, holstering his gun and making his way towards her carefully. “Tauriel, you can’t go after like thirty Orcs alone.”

She smirked at him sarcastically. “Well, would you look at that. I’m not alone.”

Legolas grinned. “You knew I would come.”

Her mouth twitched again as she glanced at the river.

“Tauriel, my dad… he can be kind of a jerk, I know, but he’s been decent to you for your whole life. He’s protected you and basically raised you like you were almost his own. You’re- you’re betraying his trust.” He switched to Elvish mid-sentence. “ _Come back with me. He’ll forgive you if you come back_.”

“ _But I won’t, though_.” She met his gaze firmly. “ _If I go back, I won’t forgive myself._ ” She too switched languages, almost without recognizing it. “He’s never let Orcs invade our property before, but now he just lets this group saunter through and try to kill our detainees.”

“ _They were trying to escape. And they really only came close to killing that one that you like._ ” Legolas sighed. “It is not our fight!”

“It is our fight!” Tauriel shot right back. “Every time they win, they get stronger. If your dad gets his way, like he always does, we’ll do nothing. We’ll hide in his bomb shelter and live in darkness while the rest of the world gets taken over. We live here too, don’t we?”

Legolas looked troubled. Tauriel pressed on.

“Listen, _mellon_. Since when have we ever let Orcs be stronger than us?”

Legolas stared into the distance for a while. Just when Tauriel was starting to think she should just leave him there to stare at nothing, he finally nodded. She beamed.

“Let’s go catch some Orcs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If people could comment about possible improvements I could make, that'd be great! I feel like this chapter isn't as good as the last since it's not soulmark-centered, but I tried. Next bit should be up in a couple of weeks, if all goes well. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Google Translate idea credit goes to a post by acornshields on tumblr, I believe. Please comment suggestions on how I can improve! Thank you!


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